


Hurts Like Hell (So Cold)

by JoyKatieWrites



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Based off two songs, F/F, It just kinda happened, My fic for Valentines 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2020-10-13 13:55:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20583590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoyKatieWrites/pseuds/JoyKatieWrites
Summary: Very short o/s for Valentine's Day 2019. Emma spends her Valentine's with the one true love of her life. Just not in the way she expected, or wanted. Based on two songs, see endnote for details. AU.





	Hurts Like Hell (So Cold)

It had been a year. The worst year of Emma’s life to date, and there had been some pretty crappy years for it to contend with.

She was cold. So cold it was making her numb, but she welcomed the numbness. It wasn’t enough to get rid of the pain, but at least for a moment, it would mask it.

Except standing in the rain with only her thin woollen coat for warmth, the pain remained excruciating. Her vision was blurry and she struggled to make out the words in front of her. It took her a moment to realise it was due to the tears that had escaped her. She blinked them away, refocusing on the text as it became clear. She knew what it said. She’d read it most days of the past year.

It did not get any easier.

One step forward was all she could manage. Not because that step landed her in a puddle of muddy water, the ground saturated after 365 days of solid rain, the worst year for weather in forty three years. No, it was because that one step led her to the edge, physically and metaphorically. Her hands clenched, trying to ground herself, to stop herself from running away, and the noise of rustling paper and plastic almost reminded her of what was cradled in her arms.

She thought back to the day, exactly one year ago. It had happened so quickly, yet she knew the pain would last a lifetime. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried. She’d been told on a weekly basis for at least six months, ‘_these things take time’_. She knew this wasn’t one of those things she’d ever be able to get over.

A drop of rain landed on her nose and trickled down the front of her shirt. Her throat ached. She’d cried herself out so many times the past year that she struggled to produce tears anymore. Of course, it wasn’t so hard today.

She didn’t usually speak and part of her felt like she couldn’t. She also knew that she had to. She didn’t have a speech planned. She didn’t even know what she wanted to say. So she just opened her mouth and allowed the words to flow out.

“I… don’t know how to say this without breaking. I’ve tried to say the words out loud before but the tears always seem to take over. I don’t even think I can put how I feel into words. Just thinking them breaks me apart, speaking it… I think it would be too much for my soul to handle.”

She took a deep breath, feeling it shuddering as she released the breath into the cold air. She crouched down, one hand steadying herself, the others unwilling to release the package that was tucked into the crook of her arm. It was then she allowed herself to read the words in front of her. To focus. To take it in.

_Regina Mills_

_Beloved Wife_

_Feb 1st 1987 – Feb 14th 2018_

“I loved you. I do still love you. But I lost you. I lost you when you promised I’d never lose you. And that hurts like hell.” She brushed off the one leaf that had

It had been a year. The worst year of Emma’s life to date, and there had been some pretty crappy years for it to contend with.

She was cold. So cold it was making her numb, but she welcomed the numbness. It wasn’t enough to get rid of the pain, but at least for a moment, it would mask it.

Except standing in the rain with only her thin woollen coat for warmth, the pain remained excruciating. Her vision was blurry and she struggled to make out the words in front of her. It took her a moment to realise it was due to the tears that had escaped her. She blinked them away, refocusing on the text as it became clear. She knew what it said. She’d read it most days of the past year.

It did not get any easier.

One step forward was all she could manage. Not because that step landed her in a puddle of muddy water, the ground saturated after 365 days of solid rain, the worst year for weather in forty three years. No, it was because that one step led her to the edge, physically and metaphorically. Her hands clenched, trying to ground herself, to stop herself from running away, and the noise of rustling paper and plastic almost reminded her of what was cradled in her arms.

She thought back to the day, exactly one year ago. It had happened so quickly, yet she knew the pain would last a lifetime. It wasn’t that she hadn’t tried. She’d been told on a weekly basis for at least six months, ‘_these things take time’_. She knew this wasn’t one of those things she’d ever be able to get over.

A drop of rain landed on her nose and trickled down the front of her shirt. Her throat ached. She’d cried herself out so many times the past year that she struggled to produce tears anymore. Of course, it wasn’t so hard today.

She didn’t usually speak and part of her felt like she couldn’t. She also knew that she had to. She didn’t have a speech planned. She didn’t even know what she wanted to say. So she just opened her mouth and allowed the words to flow out.

“I… don’t know how to say this without breaking. I’ve tried to say the words out loud before but the tears always seem to take over. I don’t even think I can put how I feel into words. Just thinking them breaks me apart, speaking it… I think it would be too much for my soul to handle.”

She took a deep breath, feeling it shuddering as she released the breath into the cold air. She crouched down, one hand steadying herself, the others unwilling to release the package that was tucked into the crook of her arm. It was then she allowed herself to read the words in front of her. To focus. To take it in.

_Regina Mills_

_Beloved Wife_

_Feb 1st 1987 – Feb 14th 2018_

“I loved you. I do still love you. But I lost you. I lost you when you promised I’d never lose you. And that hurts like hell.” She brushed off the one leaf that had fallen onto the gravestone since the last time she was there, two days ago.

“I went to my counselling session today Regina. Are you proud of me? I know I promised you I’d try and… I am. It’s hard though. I don’t want them to know my secrets. I can’t tell them… the way I loved you, they wouldn’t understand it. They don’t accept that I… that I can’t accept that you’re gone. I know it’s been a year but…I know, I do. But they want me to say it out loud. And how can I say it when it destroys be just thinking it. I loved you. I lost you. It hurts like hell.”

She couldn’t explain the tightness in her chest. Well more like she couldn’t explain why the tightness in her chest was getting just a little bit lighter as she spoke to her wife who wasn’t there. She’d spoken to her before. It had hurt just the same. It had never felt that… cathartic before.

“You know I’ve never said it out loud. I can admit that I lost you. I can admit that you’re no longer with me. I turn it over in my mind. I can’t escape it. I turn it over. I can’t say it. How am I supposed to concede that the one I love, the one I lost… that she’s d…” The word caught in her throat in a way she couldn’t explain.

“That’s the thing Regina. I know I come visit you most days but I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up… you can’t hear when I cry. You don’t see how my dreams all died. I know you’re up there. But while you are, I’m down here. It’s quiet without you and I feel so cold. The house we shared… it no longer feels like home.”

Her arm was beginning to get heavy. The bouquet she’d spent an hour picking had been clutched closely to her and had also been subject to the rain; it wasn’t looking as good as it was when she’d bought it. A quick brush over the flowers untucked some bent leaves, the cyclamen, pink carnations, forget-me-nots, primrose and sweet pea, she hoped reflected the perfect message.

It was the moment, she believed. She knew she could not keep doing this to herself. Her therapist had been telling her that for at least the last six months. Almost daily visits to the cemetery, working 12 to 14 hour shifts, going home only to wash or change, then sleeping in the on-call room. She wasn’t ready to move on. Chances are she wouldn’t be for a long time. But she was ready to say goodbye.

Not forever.

But for now.

“Regina… you were and always will be, the light of my life. I’ll never stop loving you. And I will visit you still. But not every day. You died… but I’m still alive and I have to keep living. Valentines was always our holiday. I’m going to make it mean something. I’m going to make you so proud of me.”

She stood. It was time. She had turned a corner.

“I love you, Regina. And it’s time for me to say goodbye.”

fallen onto the gravestone since the last time she was there, two days ago.

“I went to my counselling session today Regina. Are you proud of me? I know I promised you I’d try and… I am. It’s hard though. I don’t want them to know my secrets. I can’t tell them… the way I loved you, they wouldn’t understand it. They don’t accept that I… that I can’t accept that you’re gone. I know it’s been a year but…I know, I do. But they want me to say it out loud. And how can I say it when it destroys be just thinking it. I loved you. I lost you. It hurts like hell.”

She couldn’t explain the tightness in her chest. Well more like she couldn’t explain why the tightness in her chest was getting just a little bit lighter as she spoke to her wife who wasn’t there. She’d spoken to her before. It had hurt just the same. It had never felt that… cathartic before.

“You know I’ve never said it out loud. I can admit that I lost you. I can admit that you’re no longer with me. I turn it over in my mind. I can’t escape it. I turn it over. I can’t say it. How am I supposed to concede that the one I love, the one I lost… that she’s d…” The word caught in her throat in a way she couldn’t explain.

“That’s the thing Regina. I know I come visit you most days but I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up… you can’t hear when I cry. You don’t see how my dreams all died. I know you’re up there. But while you are, I’m down here. It’s quiet without you and I feel so cold. The house we shared… it no longer feels like home.”

Her arm was beginning to get heavy. The bouquet she’d spent an hour picking had been clutched closely to her and had also been subject to the rain; it wasn’t looking as good as it was when she’d bought it. A quick brush over the flowers untucked some bent leaves, the cyclamen, pink carnations, forget-me-nots, primrose and sweet pea, she hoped reflected the perfect message.

It was the moment, she believed. She knew she could not keep doing this to herself. Her therapist had been telling her that for at least the last six months. Almost daily visits to the cemetery, working 12 to 14 hour shifts, going home only to wash or change, then sleeping in the on-call room. She wasn’t ready to move on. Chances are she wouldn’t be for a long time. But she was ready to say goodbye.

Not forever.

But for now.

“Regina… you were and always will be, the light of my life. I’ll never stop loving you. And I will visit you still. But not every day. You died… but I’m still alive and I have to keep living. Valentines was always our holiday. I’m going to make it mean something. I’m going to make you so proud of me.”

She stood. It was time. She had turned a corner.

“I love you, Regina. And it’s time for me to say goodbye.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was prompted by two songs, primarily Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie and then So Cold by Ben Cocks, but most of the lyrics do not really fit. For the first song, the lyrics are similar to the speech but I had to jig it around to fit. Credit to writers’ etc. nothing you could recognise is mine. Also, obviously used creative license with the year of birth. Also if you wanna know the meanings of the flowers, I did some research but based my decisions off a website called thelanguageofflowers . com so you’ll see what I meant on there.


End file.
